Misguided Handshake
by positiveforce
Summary: The title says it all, actually. I hope. Oneshot. Inspired by the question that lingers, "What if... Harry accepted Draco's friendship?"


**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. It is everyone's.**

_**Attempted**_** Summary: Harry had accepted Draco's friendship when they were eleven years old. One simple hand shake leads to a different future, a future that has a sooner ending.**

**A/N: Alas, I am not good at summaries. I do wish I'm good at writing stories, though.**

**ALERT: After three years, I edited a few things. It's still sort of the same though. I'm not sure one can even tell what I've changed. Anyway, for those of you who came here for my new fic (Silver Haze and Green Eyes), I assure you only a quarter of the things here are similar to the story there. It's totally different. Proud of them both though, despite er, things. Hope you like this story for those who hadn't read it yet or even if you did, I hope you still do. :)**

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><p><strong>Misguided Handshake<strong>

Darkness faded.

Everything seemed to be dull. He felt himself floating over weary air. He did not understand why he felt sudden anxiety inside.

He stood there. He was anticipating something important. He didn't know what, but he was waiting something's response.

Suddenly, he felt a soft grip holding his right hand. He felt sudden composure. And everything turned clear.

All the first years were in awe, while Draco looked like he'd seen better structures than this excuse of a castle.

"You've got to be in Slytherin," he said, while draping his arm around a young and innocent Harry Potter.

"Slytherin?" Harry asked fretfully. "But Hagrid said all the bad wizards were there. Wasn't Volde—sorry, You-Know-Who a Slytherin?"

Draco scorned, but composed himself quickly. He wanted to persuade Harry into being in Slytherin with him. He saw Harry as his equal, which was really rare. "Yes, Voldemort was." He said, not planning to deny it.

Draco seemed to be intriguing Harry. He was the first person who did not fear mentioning the name, Voldemort.

"But what does that oaf—Hagrid know about the difference between bad and good? He doesn't even know how to read." Draco scoffed. Crabbe and Goyle sniggered behind them.

Draco's statement seemed to turn Harry off, he noticed. So he added, "I tell you, Potter, Slytherin's more exclusive than the others. All the _powerful_ wizards were from Slytherin." hoping to impress the doubtful-looking boy.

"Then I wouldn't be in it, would I?" Harry replied gloomily, "I don't know a thing or two about magic…."

Draco felt weird hearing this from someone like Harry Potter. "You're either born with it or you're not, Potter." He explained smugly, "And I know you are…. It's in your blood."

Harry's eyes widened at what Draco said. He was pretty sure it was a compliment. "You think so," he muttered, smiling.

"Yeah," Draco replied quickly, while looking away. His pale cheeks turned slightly pink.

The scenery blurred and all he could hear was stiff silence.

"SLYTHERIN" a rusty voice cried.

All the voices around him roared with joy; though he heard distant hisses from the far end of the room.

Everyone around him seemed to be tall and standing. They were clapping their hands and high-fiving each other.

All he could make out in the scene was swishing black robes with small hints of green.

Draco stood up, quite shorter than everyone; he couldn't see what they were looking at.

Suddenly, Harry Potter came walking towards him, wearing a shy grin on his face. He was offered handshakes and high-fives which he received shyly. He took a seat beside Draco at the Slytherin table.

"BE QUIET." Professor McGonagall ordered. The Slytherins silenced sulkily while the other houses mutely scoffed.

Harry looked at Draco once more. He seemed to have a really broad beam, Draco thought. Those eyes shining a little too much behind those circled spectacles.

The green glowed and glowed until it sucked Draco in as the Great Hall vanished. It formed into grass, as he saw the Hogwarts Castle behind.

The castle looked bigger than what he remembered, but he didn't have the urge to control himself.

"Snape does not hate you, Potter," he says, while walking with Harry down to Hagrid's hut (Crabbe and Goyle blended with the canvas). "Tell me again, why we're going to the gamekeeper?" he complained.

"I didn't ask you to come," Harry replied. "You followed me, Malfoy."

"Yes, I did. I didn't have anything better to do. Okay, Potter?" Draco said defensively.

Harry smirked, which made Draco blush wildly so he looked away.

"Plus, I don't trust that oaf." He added defensively, "he could eat you or something."

"I happen to trust Hagrid." Harry replied quite fiercely.

Draco sighed, "Fine."

As he saw sight of Hagrid's hut, it seemed to move further and further as they stepped toward it.

Everything blurred again. Draco felt cold air embracing him as he rushed through a room full of plain beds.

"HOW IS HE? WHAT HAPPENED?" Draco cried, as he came barging toward a calm-looking Albus Dumbledore.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy…." Dumbledore said coolly, placing a finger on his lips for silence. "I believe Mr. Potter's, as you see, tired."

Draco looked at Harry who was sleeping placidly on one of the beds. "He's badly bruised! Of course he's tired!" He turned to Dumbledore, "WHAT THE BLOODY HELL HAS HAPPENED?"

"Language, my boy!" a young-looking Madam Pomfrey cried from her place. "You happen to be talking to the Headmaster," she added sternly.

"It is okay, Madam Pomfrey. One cannot control one's words when in deep fear or worry." Dumbledore assured smiling.

Madam Pomfrey nodded, eyeing Draco with slight rage before leaving.

"I'm not afraid." Draco replied, once again, defensively. "I just want to know why he's bruised! I woke up this morning and found him gone! Where did he go? I suppose you, of all people, know," he demanded.

"Ah, my boy," Dumbledore said, "What Mr. Potter did here was quite heroic. Of course, it is a secret. However, I asked Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley to help him. I am sure, knowing secrets here at Hogwarts, this secret will come out very soon, and you will hear all about this from your peers..." he added, smiling.

Draco looked at the man with utter disbelief, and added irritably, "Why won't you just tell me then? I can't wait that long. What happened to him? Why is he bruised? Who hurted him? Why did you ask that Mudblood and—"

"Please, Mr. Malfoy..." Dumbledore butted slightly, hiding the fierceness in his voice, "we do not tolerate rude name-calling in Hogwarts. I am sure if your friend, Mr. Potter here, knew what you called his friend; he would be very offended, indeed."

"Granger?" Draco jeered. "His friend? That's impossible. He—"

"He would've told you, if you never felt ill towards her and Mr. Weasley." Dumbledore replied. "I sense jealousy, Mr. Malfoy. I'm sure Harry has enough kindness to be friends with anyone from any lot, I assume."

"I'm not jealous," Draco muttered, not looking at the man.

Albus Dumbledore smiled at him.

Draco thought Dumbledore was mad, he was screaming and shouting at him, and all the Headmaster could do was smile? He felt sick, those blue eyes gleaming at him like it could see through.

"Can I stay?" Draco asked, looking at Harry peacefully sleeping. "Wait for him to wake up, I mean," he explained.

Dumbledore sighed, "But it might take a long time before he wakes up... Don't you want to watch the Final Quidditch Match? I hear Slytherin will give—my old house, Gryffindor, a run for their Galleons." He chuckled.

"No. Not really." Draco replied; his tone was softer than before. "I should stay here."

As Dumbledore nodded, leaving him alone beside Potter's sleeping body; the room turned to smoke, before he could hold Harry's cold hand.

Everything vanished again, the smoke brushed through Draco's face like cool wind.

Right beside him; the Quidditch Pitch formed.

It was awfully larger than what Draco remembered, although he did not seem to have commented on that.

"Thanks, Malfoy." Harry said shyly, his voice was deeper than before. He was catching up with him, while holding a new Nimbus Two-thousand and One.

"Yeah, yeah..." Draco said, "Now kindly shut up, Potter. I've heard you talk so many times about how awesome I am. It's making me sick."

Harry giggled. He knew all too well that Draco was joking half-heartedly. He began, "Right, thanks."

Draco sighed heavily, and looked away, his lip was curling.

As they stepped in the other corner of the pitch, they saw the group of Slytherins.

"Hey Flint!" Draco called.

A rough-looking man turned into Draco's direction.

"Ah, Perfect..." Marcus Flint, the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch Team, said, checking the list. "Malfoy. Potter. Positions?"

"Seeker," said Harry and Draco at the same time.

Flint scoffed, "Oh, too bad," he added sarcastically, "You see, we only have room for one—"

"We know how the bloody game works!" Draco said irritably. He sighed annoyingly before saying, "Beater."

"Sorry?" Flint asked.

"Are you deaf?" Draco shouted at the Slytherin Captain, who looked like he was trying his best to compose himself.

"I said I'll be a Beater instead," Draco said firmly. "That way I can hit those bloody scum-suckers legally..." he added as the others looked at him, bewildered at his slight _act of kindness._

Marcus, who seemed doubtful, did not dare protest.

Draco's body wasn't clearly built for a Beater.

Harry noticed Flint's fearful expression. "I," he started nervously, "I... could try for Chaser… I guess. I mean, I guess Draco would make a better Seeker than me since he knows more about—"

"Shut it, Potter." Draco said angrily. "I'm a Beater. You're going to be a Bloody Seeker, you got that?"

Harry could see he was annoyed. He tried to protest, "I-it's really not a problem—"

"No." Draco opposed. "You're better," he said through gritted teeth as if giving another compliment would pain him. He turned to Flint, "Aren't we going to practice or wait for your bloody balls to pop?"

"Yes. Okay." Flint said, as he held his whistle. "Oy!" He turned to the other members, "Practice, now!"

"Wait," Harry said, looking puzzled. "We… we made it? There're no tryouts?"

Flint shook his head avoiding eye-contact. Harry noticed him gripping his Broom tightly, it looked new, and it was also a Nimbus Two-thousand and One.

As Flint blew the whistle; the screeching sounds diverged with roars.

Draco looked up, and it looked as though he was in an actual Quidditch Match. He felt quite pleased with himself.

_SLYTHERIN SLYTHERIN SLYTHERIN_

Students wearing green chanted; they had won.

Draco saw Harry being lifted by the taller Slytherins cheering his name.

Draco smiled at the sight of Harry with full bliss; his right hand lifted up the air, with the Golden Snitch gripped tightly.

As Flint and Pucey placed Harry down, Draco acted upon thought and wrapped his arms around Harry.

Harry was startled, but hugged the pale boy too. He whispered, "Thank you."

Draco was shocked at what he did, but did not seem to release, as the hug grew warmer and warmer and the people around vanished.

The scene changed, and Draco was in the Hospital Wing hugging a huge bucket. He felt sick and suddenly a slimy creature seemed to tickle in his mouth. He began to vomit slugs out.

"Better out than in," Madam Pomfrey said, as she watched the boy puke.

"IF I GET—" A slug came out, "—MY HANDS AROUND—" The slug seemed to be smaller than the previous one, "—THAT WEASLEY. HE'S GOING TO—" The slug seemed to have missed the bucket.

"You shouldn't have done that, Malfoy..." Harry said, while patting Draco's back, helping him put out the slugs.

"Do what?" Draco asked defensively

Seven slimy slugs were crawling on the bucket.

"You called Hermione a Mudblood," Harry replied.

Draco managed to sneer, before another slug tickled his throat. "It's true, isn't it?" He said when the slug shot straight through the bucket.

"That was really rude," Harry explained calmly.

Draco scoffed, "No, it's not. It's the truth. She's dirty blood. Why should she hide it when it's so obvious?" He added irritably.

"But she was hurt," Harry added.

Draco rolled his eyes, while another slug managed to come out. "Why the bloody hell are you so nice to them, Potter?"

"Well," Harry muttered, "they helped me stop Voldemort getting the Sorcerer's Stone, and all..."

"And all?" Draco jeered. "That _is_ all they've done. _I_ could've helped you light a wand, solve a riddle and play chess too. It's not that hard."

Harry felt guilty, "But Dumbledore—"

"Oh please..." Draco stood. "If you'd rather be friends with Blood-traitors and _Muggle-borns then well,_ fine." He left the Hospital Wing, assuming he was cured from slug-barfing.

As he slammed the Hospital Wing door shut. The place changed, and Draco happened to be standing on the Slytherin table. All eyes seemed to be on him.

"Silence please," He commanded at the Great Hall. Glancing quickly if there were any Professors; he was safe (Professor Snape seemed to be buried under The Daily Prophet).

"Now, I've heard a lot of you talking about Potter lately," he said, lingering along the table. "And as I am used to the attention he seems to always be getting..." Harry seemed to blush at what Draco said, "I am not happy with what I am hearing."

"Justin!" Draco called, looking at the Hufflepuff table. A boy looked at him startled. "Is it true that you heard Potter command a snake to attack you?" he asked, as if it was such a ridiculous question.

"You saw him!" Justin said defensively. "He was commanding the snake to bite me! Right?" He turned to the other Hufflepuffs who nodded in agreement.

Draco sneered, "Oh, really?" he asked in mock. "You heard him say that?"

"Yes," Justin replied confidently, through shaky voice.

Harry wanted to hide under the table; mortified at the two boys battling about him. He felt like he was on some kind of jury.

"What exactly did Potter say then?" Draco asked sternly at the Hufflepuff.

"I don't know!" Justin replied. "He was speaking snake, wasn't he? Who do you suppose would understand that except the Heir of Slytherin?" He added defensively, his finger pointing at Harry.

"You stupid arse," Draco stated.

Everyone seemed to gasp; they looked at Snape who seemed to have heard nothing.

"Didn't Potter here," he looked toward Potter's direction. Potter wished he brought his Invisibility Cloak with him. "...tell you he was trying to make the snake stop?"

"It didn't look like it." A Hufflepuff girl added. "The snake moved closer!"

"Kindly shut it, Ms. Abbott." Draco said, before he continued, "Since when did snakes turn obedient?

"And do you really think that Harry here," He signalled everyone to look at Harry, which made Harry's face turn redder, "who wouldn't hurt a Billywig, even if you freaking tell him to," he said, irritably, "would want to hurt his fellow students? No matter how big of a git—" he turned to Justin who looked furious, "—they are?"

"B-but…." Justin added, shakily, trying to think of a way to support himself.

"But nothing," Draco cleared. "Now, I suggest all of you, not just Mr. Finch-Filthy Mud—"

Snape coughed loudly signalling Draco to silence.

"Not just Mr. Finch-Fletchley over here. But every arse who spread lies about Harry Prancing Potter to say sorry, and bow down to—what is it, Potter?" Draco asked, noticing Harry tugging his robes.

"That's enough," Harry said blushing. "Thanks," he added shyly.

"Shut it. I'm making a speech," Draco replied. "Now, as I was saying," he turned back to the bemused crowd, "You—"

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Draco looked stunned. Professor McGonagall came in with her hands on her waist, and her face sharper than ever.

"Did it occur to you that the thing you are standing on is not the floor?" She said.

"Yes, Professor. I'm sorry." Draco said briefly, not meaning it.

"Go back to your seat. Your classmates are eating, for Merlin's sake." She added.

"They didn't seem to mind," Draco muttered quietly as he went down the table grudgingly, and took a seat beside Harry.

Harry nudged him, and smiled, forgetting their fight earlier at the Hospital Wing.

After few minutes of silence, the room turned foggy once again, and he suddenly felt a jealous feeling inside him.

As the sight began to clear, he saw Albus Dumbledore smiling broadly at another bruised Harry, who was arm in arm with a bloody Weaselette.

Before he could paint out what he was seeing, the scene turned blurred, and swishing wind was all he heard.

The surroundings turned dark, with a greenish glow. He was sitting on a green velvet couch. He was in the Slytherin Common Room alone, hand held on a book.

"Have you ever kissed anyone?" A voice asked.

Draco turned and saw Potter, sitting beside a desk; he looked slightly pass the adolescent stage.

"Yes," Draco lied, which Harry had noticed. "Fine, no. I expect _you_ have then, Mr. Celebrity?" he said briskly.

Harry shook his head shyly.

"Merlin's Beard, Potter. We're only thirteen." He added, nervously.

"I saw Cho..." Harry said miserably.

Draco shrugged. He had been sick of hearing that name all year_. Cho Chang. Cho Chang. Cho Chang._ It sounded like _Choking_, which he hoped would happen to her.

"Come on, she's older than you." He said, trying to cheer his friend poorly. "I bet you would snog many um… girls when you come of age."

"What's the right age, exactly?" Harry asked, quite curiously.

"I don't know when people usually become skanks or man-whores." Draco replied sensitively.

"When does kissing make you a whore?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Draco replied, turning pink. "Why is this bothering you?" he asked annoyingly.

"Well," Harry added looking at Draco, excitingly. "I saw Millicent and Crabbe and—"

"Ew, ew," Draco said with a bitter expression on his face. "That is too much information, Potter!"

"They didn't snog!" Harry said, clearly understanding why Draco looked grossed out. "They shared a chaste kiss, quite sweet, actually, the kiss," he added, grinning.

"I don't know where this is going, really." Draco said, with a lazy tone.

"Well, they look really sweet. And perfect for each other—admit it, they do." Harry added, as Draco scoffed at his comment.

"I suppose," he replied.

"I was wondering." Harry started. "Who would be my first kiss? I mean—I want that person to be someone good, I mean. Someone I have known for a long time—I do not want it to be some random person who just happens to press their lips toward mine. And I mean, I'm only thirteen, but what if no one would ever want to kiss—"

"I'm going to stop you right there, Potter," Draco said, as he laughed, light-mockingly. "Do you want to have a first kiss?_ Now?_"

Harry nodded shyly; he looked away at his friend who seemed to see right through him with those intimidating silver eyes.

"Close your eyes." Draco said, as he stood up.

Without hesitation, Harry obeyed. "Am I going to kiss someone?" Harry said, excitedly, while his eyes were sealed.

"Pathetic," Draco muttered, laughing at Harry.

"That wasn't funny!" Harry said, opening his eyes. "I was waiting for someone!"

"Who?" Draco added, "Cho? Do you expect Chang to just burst in our Common Room and kiss you?" he jeered.

"No," Harry replied swiftly. "But I thought someone would kiss me," he added defensively.

"From who? Goyle?" Draco joked, pointing at the snoring figure on the other couch.

Harry shook his head and muttered something that sounded like "loo."

"What?" Draco asked loudly.

"I don't know," Harry said, looking away. "You, I guess," he muttered.

Draco froze. He did not dare blush, he turned ice-cold. "Y-you're serious?" he stammered.

"It was just a guess!" Harry explained.

"But if I kissed you, it would actually be okay?" Draco asked bewildered.

Harry nodded, "I guess."

"Then we would never talk about it again, right?" Draco asked. "I mean, you don't have a first kiss. I don't have a first kiss. We could be each other's first kiss, then that's just it, right? We forget about it? Right, Potter?"

Harry nodded again.

Both of them seemed to freeze. They gaze at each other nervously; neither of them dare say a word. The only sound was the water seen outside the dungeons hitting the sealed window.

"Should we kiss?" Harry asked as if it was such a normal question.

Draco bent over, as their faces were inches closer. He closed his eyes, while Harry's remained open.

They pushed their faces forward until dry lips met soft ones. Their lips departed quickly before Draco could contemplate it.

A tingling feeling lingered at the back of his throat, his lip curled. He tried his bloody best to stop his lips from smiling.

Warmth wrapped his entire body.

Draco opened his eyes. He was laying down cold floor. It was dark. He seemed to be wrapped under a sleeping bag.

"I'm scared," Harry muttered beside him.

Draco could not see where he was. The moon outside the window seemed to be the only source of light.

"Don't be. I thought you said you wanted revenge," he whispered back.

"I do. But Black seems so dangerous, how the bloody hell did he get in?" Harry asked angrily.

"Malfoy, Potter; silence," Draco heard Snape say nearby.

"I don't know," was all Draco could whisper, as he felt a soft grip.

Draco opened his eyes; he was lying on the Great Hall in a sleeping bag.

He felt someone gingerly kick his leg; it was Pansy.

The sun was now reflecting her annoyingly sharp face.

"You've been cosy with Potter, I see," she said, giggling.

Draco looked and noticed his right hand near Potter's left. They seemed to have held hands while sleeping.

"Where's everyone?" Draco asked, sitting up.

"Don't worry. _Only everyone_ saw. Inseparable mates, the two of you, yeah?" Pansy added jokingly.

"Shut it, Parkinson," Draco said, covering his face under the sleeping bag, blushing.

As Draco buried himself under the sheets, everything seemed cool. He felt himself drifting away, as he was standing still.

"Her again?" Draco complained, at another bruised looking Potter.

"She had a Time-turner," Harry explained. "But that's alright," he added excitedly, "Sirius escaped. He's safe! Somewhere with Buckbeak—"

"That bloody chicken?" Draco complained. "Why didn't you tell me, Potter? I could've helped."

"Do you have a Time-turner?" Harry asked.

"No," Draco replied angrily.

"Then how are we supposed to go back in time then?" Harry explained, "Hermione was the only student who had one, okay, Malfoy?" He looked at the pale blond who hissed, "Stop being jealous."

"Who said I was fucking jealous?" Draco shouted ferociously. Then softened his tone, "I want to help you, Potter! I really do. I'm your best mate." He added, "Why does it seem like I am always more useless than those Gryffindors? They seem to always save your life. And I'm just here, late, because I wasn't really called."

His voice was shaking, "Am I suppose to act like nothing has bloody happened? Those bloody Dementors almost got you, and I didn't know!"

Harry felt guilty for his sulky best friend, "I promise," he began.

"Next time, when I'm in danger," he looked straight at the sad boy's silver gleaming eyes, "I'll ask you for help. Even if Hermione or Ron is dangling the answers in front of me, okay?"

Draco shook his head. "Nevermind. You wouldn't fulfill that promise," he said stiffly.

The wind outside the castle grew stronger and stronger, the scene blurred and cleared quickly. Draco turned to be in a huge room, with deafening roars outside.

Darkness seemed to be replaced by a bright flash.

"Oh, hello, my boy," said Rita Skeeter, beside the old-looking photographer.

"And you are?" She asked, as she smirked. "The boyfriend of Ms. Fleur Delacour, I presume?" She suggested, lifting her Quick-Quotes Quill.

"Ugh, no, a friend of Harry Potter, actually," Draco replied dully.

"Oh," Rita said teasingly, "Just a _friend_?"

"Yes," Draco replied irritably. "Now, if you excuse me, I have to go," he added pushing the writer swiftly aside.

"Potter!" Draco cried, as he caught sight of Harry, who grew in height and in hair. "Are you bloody mental?" He screamed, "A dragon? A dragon? You expect yourself to fight a Dragon?"

"Just get his egg," Harry said.

"I have a bad feeling about this, Potter," Draco said peevishly. "Really, don't. You have to quit!"

"I can't," Harry said. "Sorry, Malfoy, the Goblet chose me," he added shakily.

Draco hissed, "You have enough stories to tell when you're older—_if_ you get older—this isn't worth it." Then he looked straight at Harry, sudden panic in his face, he looked like he was going to burst with pain, "I need to tell you—"

"What?" Harry asked, while the adrenaline and roars of the crowd outside excited him.

"This isn't the right time. But—ugh, fine," he sighed; then muttered, "I love you."

Harry stopped dead; he looked befuddled at what the boy said.

"Now isn't the time for awkward silence, Potter." Draco added, losing the tension. "Thought you ought to know before—just, don't overdo it. I heard Him—"

"Malfoy!" Mad-Eye Moody came, barging. "Why are you here? Get out!" He shoved Malfoy aside, "Students who aren't competing aren't allowed in this tent!"

Draco silenced, and exited the tent.

As he left the tent, it vanished behind him, and he was standing stiff in front of himself.

Draco was wearing a fancy sleek cloak, in front of the mirror.

"Sharp," Harry added, as he entered the Slytherin Common Room.

Draco smiled at the sight of the boy. He looked exceptionally beautiful. "Better get going," he muttered, "Pansy's quite impatient," he complained lightly.

"Why couldn't we just pick best buds to be our date in this bloody ball?" Harry added.

Draco agreed.

"Daphne might step on my foot or something. She's a bit clumsy." Harry joked. "Wish I could've asked you, instead," he smiled at the startled looking boy.

Draco scoffed, "Shut it, Potter." He added, looking away, before his cheeks swell with gush. "Let's go."

As Draco pushed the Common Room Dungeon Door open, the wind swept him away coolly.

Then something around his waist was guiding him through movements and music.

He was dancing in the center, with the fairies lighting the room. He was lost in gaze, with Potter's green orbs.

It was all too quick, as it vanished right away.

He appeared in the stands of the Ring-less Quidditch Pitch.

The cheerful music suddenly died.

Everyone came rushing towards the center, and began bending over. Everyone's cheers turned to sobs as the music froze.

Draco walked towards the crowded people….

"THAT'S MY SON!" a man cried bustling in, pushing the crowded people.

As the man knelt down, Draco saw Harry wrapping his arms around Cedric Diggory's body. He was sobbing. Cedric was dead.

The sight blurred as people came rushing toward them. The Slytherin Boys' Dormitory formed once again.

"HE WAS THERE." Harry cried, screaming angrily at Draco.

Draco did not know what to say, he felt like his whole body was binded together, keeping him from moving.

Draco tilted his head up then down. He did not deny his father being a Death Eater. Only now did he know it was a shameful thing.

"He watched!" Harry screamed, "HE WATCHED AS HIS MASTER _KILLED_ CEDRIC," Tears came streaming down Harry's face. He was traumatized by what he had just witnessed.

"IS LUCIUS THAT HEARTLESS?" he asked, his voice cracking. "ARE _YOU _THAT HEARTLESS? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME, DRACO?"

Draco seemed scared at the angry boy. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know it would end up like this. He tried to warn him He was coming back, but failed.

"Harry…." He muttered softly. "I am so so—" Draco's voice cracked as well, when tears came down his eyes.

"I trusted you, Draco," Harry added, bitterly. "That—that seemed to be the biggest mistake I ever made."

The view collapsed as Draco's eyes were filled with water, and as it dried, he was in a different scenery.

He was rushing toward the halls of Hogwarts, either he grew taller or the room has shrunken. He was chasing Harry, who seemed in a rush, with Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville and another girl.

"Potter!" Draco said, catching up.

"What?" Harry said impatiently, his voice changed very maturely.

"M-my D-dad," Draco stammered, warningly.

"What about sweet Lucius?" Harry asked bitterly.

Draco added, unsure about the details he had heard. "T-the Prophecy. I-it's a-a t-trap…. S-Sirius, he's n-not really—"

"How do you know about Sirius? What has your Father done to him?" Harry asked angrily.

Draco didn't know what to answer. He wasn't sure he could explain himself. "I'll go with you."

"What?" Ginny asked in disbelief.

"He might lead us into a trap!" Hermione cried at Harry, nervously.

"Harry," Draco said, ignoring all the others. "Please…."

"You're still mad at him, aren't you, Harry?" The blonde girl asked dreamily, eyes staring widely at the two boys, "he obviously wants your forgiveness," she added.

Before Draco could see Harry's reply, everything vanished once again.

He saw flashes of blue mist against a dark room. He heard glasses shatter, and a man's piercing scream.

"You're son has betrayed you, Lucius," a cold voice said.

Draco couldn't hear quite well. He heard begging, but he did not understand what the pleading was about.

Before he could make out what had happened, the sight changed.

He fell towards a seat.

He was on the Hogwarts Express alone in one compartment.

"Draco," a voice called, disrupting his solitude. It was Potter.

Draco did not answer. He did not dare look Harry in the eye.

"Draco, are you crying?" Harry asked, forcing the pale boy to look at him.

"Leave me alone, Potter," Draco said sharply, staring absently at the window.

But Harry did not listen. He sat beside Draco.

"Don't you understand? I want to be alone!" Draco said, looking at the boy through misty eyes.

"Leave me alone, Potter." He yelled louder, shoving Harry's shoulder, "Go on! Shove off. Leave me al—"

Draco was startled. Harry lifted his chin. "You are very scared," he said, as he began scanning those angry misty eyes.

The sun reflected marvelously through Harry's face.

And before Draco could describe the boy's expression, Harry swiftly pushed his mouth toward his.

Harry's hands lingered onto Draco's shining hair and nape.

Draco's hand was wrapped tightly around Harry's waist; his left was dangling deadly from behind.

Draco did not dare protest for it felt wonderful. He felt alive; if only he did not remember that this had an end. And this had to end soon.

Their faces were wet, not because of their lips embracing, but because of Draco's tears.

Harry pulled back and stared at the blonde. His eyes were rapidly puffy, and the tears did not stop flowing.

Draco pushed Harry's hand away his chin. "You should leave now," Draco said sternly, rubbing his eyes. "I SAID GET THE FUCK OUT!" He screamed.

As Harry stood up, he looked at Draco once more, a worried expression marked on his face, "I'm sorry," he said, not knowing what he was sorry for.

"Me too," Draco muttered.

The scenery outside the window darkened, and the wind seemed to breeze coolly towards his face, drying his sobs. He felt the breeze lift him up his chair as he stood stiffly.

Draco was on top of the Astronomy Tower, his wand pointed threateningly at a, once more, calm-looking Dumbledore.

"Let me help you, Draco," Dumbledore said, moving toward the miserable-looking boy.

"Back away! Back away, I say!" His hand shaking, "It will only make my job easier," Draco added.

"But, you don't want to kill me easily, do you, Draco?" Dumbledore said wisely. "You want it to be an accident, you can't look me straight in the eye, because you know, inside you… is a boy, who isn't an Assassin, he's lost."

"You don't know me!" Draco cried, "Don't you understand?" His voice was cracking with plead. "I have to this! I have to kill you! He's gonna kill me…."

"But killing me would make you dead in Harry's eyes…." Dumbledore stated.

"B-but… my mum… and dad—He'll kill them as well…." Draco said, his hand trembling with the grip of his wand. "You don't understand!" He added.

"Please, Draco… you need help," Dumbledore asked, this time, his half-moon spectacles began to mist. "Trust me…." He said, "Harry does."

"W-what should I do, then?" Draco stammered.

"Horcrux," Dumbledore said loudly. Looking over Draco's shoulder; Draco turned and saw nothing.

"What do you mean?" Draco asked in desperation, puzzled and anxious.

"If he trusts you; you will know," Dumbledore explained, leaving Draco off-guarded once more.

"Well, well, well," Bellatrix, followed by three Death Eaters, entered with a nasty giggle, at the sight of a helpless Dumbledore.

"Draco!" She shrieked, "Point your wand at the man. He's powerless!"

"Scared, just like his Father," one said as the others laughed.

Snape came barging in; it was all too quick for Draco to contemplate.

"Severus, please." Dumbledore pleaded weakly.

"Avada Kedavra." Snape said, wand pointed toward Dumbledore.

Dumbledore fell… dead.

Draco stood frozen, feet glued to the floor. Before Snape gripped him by the arm, "Let's go," he said firmly.

Draco pushed off the grip, "N-no," he stammered. "I'm not going with you," he said shakily.

Bellatrix screamed in rage, and her voice pierced through Draco's ears.

The scream did not stop until it turned into her nasty giggle.

"Lucius' son," a cold voice echoed through Draco's ear. "Draco," the man whispered piercingly.

Draco froze; in front of him, stood Voldemort. Standing on a big rock, they seemed to be alone on a forest.

"NO," someone cried. Harry Potter revealed himself to the crowd of Death Eaters whose cloaks were blending with the darkness. "IT'S ME YOU WANT, TOM. COME ON, FINISH ME OFF."

Voldemort laughed, and it made Draco's hair stand, the laugh was terrible, it was echoed by all the Death Eaters. They were surrounded by them.

"Ah, Harry…" Voldemort said coolly, "don't worry," he added friskily, "I have time for spares," he said, smiling evilly at Draco.

"NO," Harry cried again, "IT'S ME. DO IT ALREADY. FUCKING KILL ME."

"Silence," Voldemort said piercingly. "Impatient, I see, Potter?" He turned to Draco, "Is it true that you love Harry Potter, Draco? Eloped from mummy and daddy, I see..."

"Yes," Draco said truthfully, his eyes looking straight at the red gleaming orbs of darkness.

"Ah, so you're telling me, the son of Lucius Malfoy, a claimed _loyal_ Death Eater, had a child who loved the Boy-Who-Lived?" Voldemort asked casually.

"They were loyal to you," Draco stated, bravely but unsurely.

"Don't make me laugh, Draco, I'm about to kill you." Voldemort said. "Can't wait to be with your parents, I see?" He asked, "Souls lingering, lost together... such cowards,"

Draco stood there. He did not wish to talk back. Rage came clashing with fear inside him. Voldemort already killed them and it was his fault.

"I know," Voldemort added, as if a solution to a simple Potions problem had occurred to him. "I may let you live, Draco," he continued.

Draco did not wish to listen; he was too worried about Harry.

An evil smile plastered on Voldemort's face as he turned to Harry, "I must say, you have grown, Mr. Potter. Surely, you can't remember the sight of your parents dying? You were only a toddler..." He said casually, at the furious Chosen One.

"Do you want me to recreate the sight of your love one, dying in front of you?" He asked, like he was suggesting a friendly favor.

"KILL ME ALREADY," Harry cried.

"Patience!" Voldemort screamed. The screamed echoed piercingly through everyone's ears. The Death Eaters did not seem to mind, while Draco flinched at the horrid scream.

Voldemort sighed; the sigh lingered through Draco's ear coolly, like a spirit lingering beside.

Voldemort turned once more to Harry, "Do you love him?" he asked pointing to Draco.

Draco knew Voldemort too well; He was cunning.

"If you don't, I'll let him run to any place he fancies," Voldemort said, as if he was offering a desirable prize. "This would be an interesting scene to see, don't you think, Potter? Draco Malfoy, heart-broken by the Boy-Who-Lived who has come to die...

"However," he continued. "If you do love this filthy scum-sucker; he shall be rejoined with both of your parents, who—I'm sure, would be glad to celebrate your return in their arms."

And as Voldemort laughed, the Death Eaters echoed gleefully. They were only silenced by the loud hiss of Nagini.

"Ah, Nagini, is losing patience, Potter!" Voldemort said, while stroking the scaly back of the snake. "Well? Do you love him, Potter?"

"Tell the truth," Draco mouthed, smiling weakly as Harry caught his eyes.

Harry protested. He didn't want to tell Draco he loved him now. He knew the consequence.

"Please…." Draco whispered toward him.

Harry did not take his eyes off the blond.

He looked at Draco straight in the eyes. Draco's figure was blurred, for Harry's glasses were misty, and so were Draco's eyes. "I love you, Draco Malfoy," he said clearly. It was his first time admitting it loudly. "I LOVE HIM," he cried, shouting at Voldemort.

Draco's tears fell, and mouthed, "I love you,"

Voldemort raised his wand, "The Dark Lord is kind. Now, Harry Potter has another reason to die…."

Draco surrendered. "Take me, Tom," he said bravely to Voldemort. He looked at Harry once more for the last time, "Thank you."

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort screamed as green sparks rose from his wand and hit straight towards Draco's head. Draco fell still, he had lost all right thought. Harry might be joining him soon.

Darkness.

"Draco, it's just a nightmare. It's not real. You're alright, sweetie," a soft voice called, worried.

He felt wet and warm. He seemed to have been panting.

Draco opened his eyes; Astoria was looking at him; her soft eyes scanning the miserable-looking man. "No one's going to hurt you," she explained calmly, before kissing Draco's sweaty forehead.

"You're alright now," she muttered, before closing her eyes to go back to sleep.

But she didn't understand.

He didn't want to be alright.

That wasn't Draco's nightmare.

That was his dream. That was his wish.

He loved Harry his whole life—he was sure. But he did not like his life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading. Reviews are appreciated, yeah?**


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